


no grave

by afiregender



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Vampire AU, Vampire Obi-Wan, also this is NOT going in a sinister vampire direction, also this will not be Super Sexy because i don't enjoy writing that, but like feel free to take the lore once i get to it and have fun, everything's consensual folks, hello there will be stewjoni vampire lore, no betas we die like clones, to be updated at my leisure, yes anakin is DEFINITELY going to freak out and yes obi-wan will DEFINITELY sigh longsufferedly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26090335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afiregender/pseuds/afiregender
Summary: Stranded on an unknown planet, the 212th's medic Quiet becomes very concerned as General Kenobi starts refusing all food. Until Commander Cody showed up at the med tent with a cut arm...
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 67
Kudos: 267





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hero_Thief](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hero_Thief/gifts).



> thanks to herothief for lending me a 212th medic!!!!

“Please, sir, you need to eat.”

Obi-Wan groaned and reluctantly opened his eyes. Quiet was holding out a ration bar, and the smell of it turned his stomach. He wrinkled his nose and gently shook his head. “I’m alright.”

Quiet rolled his eyes. “You’re too weak to even sit up, sir. I wouldn’t call that ‘alright.’” He held the ration bar closer. “Eat.”

“No. It smells… rancid, I don’t know, I’m not eating it.”

“Sir, you’ve eaten these hundreds of times before. It’s been a _week_ , you need to eat.”

“They smelled fine then, they don’t smell fine now. I’m _not_.”

Quiet opened his mouth to keep arguing, but something stopped him, and he turned around. Now that Obi-Wan thought about it, somewhere in the haze of his weakened mind he smelled something _wonderful_. What _was_ that?

Cody, apparently, the revelation causing the tips of his ears to grow faintly pink. He had… cut himself, on something, and Quiet was giving him an earful about carelessness. It wouldn’t do to have both the General _and_ the Commander out of commission, after all.

Something still smelled very enticing, though, and it couldn’t just be Cody. Obi-Wan summoned the energy to prop himself up to see what it _was_.

The cut was along his forearm, and a steady pool of _red_ was forming on the makeshift bandage. Obi-Wan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the _red_ , the _very_ delicious smelling _red_ , and he started too—oh, stars, was he salivating over Cody’s _blood_?

“Are you alright, sir?” Cody’s voice sounded cautious, and if Obi-Wan were inclined to look away from the _red_ he might have looked up to see if his face mirrored that same emotion. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t. It smelled so _good_.

“Mmm,” was all he managed, and somewhere in his peripheral vision he saw Cody and Quiet exchange a glance. He realized his mouth felt… odd, and he opened it slightly to adjust and felt a burst of surprise from both of them. “What?”

“Did… did he have fangs before?”

“ _No_ ,” Quiet answered definitively. _Fangs_? He tentatively ran his tongue over his teeth, still not moving his eyes from the bandages on Cody’s forearm. Stars—yes, he had—where had _those_ come from?

Quiet had returned to him, carefully examining his new _fangs_ as his mouth hung slightly open. “Well, if you’ve developed some form of hematophagy, that could explain why you’ve been refusing to eat solid food.”

“I—what?”

“Hematophagy. Blood drinking.”

“I—don’t be _silly_. I don’t want to drink his _blood_.” He very, very carefully kept his tongue inside his mouth, so he couldn’t lick his lips at the taste of the word _blood_ on them.

“Really? Because you haven’t looked away from his arm once. And you look _very_ hungry.”

Obi-Wan didn’t have an answer to that. He _hadn’t_ looked away, and he _was_ very, very hungry. He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was until he had smelled the blood. It smelled delicious in a way no food had ever smelled for him before. He _did_ want to drink it, he realized.

Cody had been suspiciously quiet, and when he finally stirred Obi-Wan hoped he would help with arguing with Quiet about why drinking his blood was incredibly silly and could not happen even if he very much wanted it to.

“Would it be… a problem if I let him?”

_Blast_. “Cody!”

“What? I’m already bleeding. Might as well put it to some use.”

“You can’t be _serious_.”

Quiet nodding slowly, and Obi-Wan’s stomach dropped. They _were_ serious. “Normally I wouldn’t want to try something like this without a great deal of research and tests, but it’s not as if we have access to either right now, and _you_ haven’t eaten anything in a week. If it’s not a life or death matter now, it will be soon.” He turned to Cody. “I’ll want to monitor you both for infection, of course—we don’t know what type of natural protections his body might have, if any. If you’re a willing donor, that is. With the way those fangs appeared, biting is probably part of the process.”

“You both are—I’m not going to _drink_ his _blood,_ and I’m certainly not going to _bite_ him to do it.”

“I don’t mind,” Cody said very, very sincerely, and Obi-Wan wished he didn’t have the Force and couldn’t read people so well.

“Cody, I’m not going to—“ Oh dear. Cody had begun to unwrap the bandages. He sat up fully, then, desperately resisting the urge to rush to Cody’s side and sink his fangs into—his _fangs_ into— _stars_. “Can’t you just—can’t you just put it in some sort of cup and I can drink _that_?”

Quiet shook his head. Blast. “Whatever natural process you have for this is probably more sanitary than anything we could scrounge up while stranded on an unknown planet.” He turned to Cody. “Sit on the cot and offer your arm. Instinct will probably take over if you get close enough.”

Obi-Wan tried to direct a glare to Quiet, but Cody and his bloody arm was getting _closer_. “That’s not _fair_.”

“If you weren’t so stubborn I wouldn’t have to resort to such tactics.”

Cody sat next to him, and his head was really starting to swim. The _smell_ of it—the blood—suddenly it was underneath his nose and he couldn’t _take_ it anymore.

He couldn’t help but moan slightly as he realized his fangs were in Cody’s arm and blood, _delicious_ blood was filling his mouth. He swallowed greedily, no longer _wanting_ to stop. It tasted so _good_ , and felt so _good_.

Cody was leaning against him, utterly relaxed, face in nuzzled his hair. The Force sang with his echoed pleasure. Obi-Wan was dimly aware that this was probably going to be a _problem_ later, but couldn’t make himself care.

He didn’t know how long it was until he was sated, but when he had drunk his fill he removed his fangs easily and leaned back with a happy sigh and a shiver. He felt _very_ pleasantly sleepy, and he yawned. “Alright, I understand the appeal of eating now. That was _wonderful_.”

Quiet paused in his examination of Cody—who seemed to be pleasantly asleep himself—to give him an appraising look.

“What?”

“Nothing you need to worry about right now. Cody’s fine. He’s anemic, but not dangerously so. He just needs rest and food. You _also_ sealed up his forearm wound somehow, and there’s no mark where you bit him.”

Obi-Wan blinked. He had? “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I figured not. But it’s a good sign that whatever hematophagy you’ve developed seems to be concerned with the welfare of the donor. Anyway, you should get some sleep, but unless something changes when you wake up I’m clearing you for duty again. You already look significantly healthier, honestly more so than when we started this damn mission.”

Obi-Wan tried to beam through another yawn, which didn’t quite work, but Quiet probably got the idea. “Wonderful! I’ll just…” He yawned again. “Take a nice nap…”

Quiet said something in reply, he maybe thought, but he didn’t catch it as he fell into a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan wakes up to Cody still sleeping, and Quiet insisting he now bite someone for every meal. He is less than excited about that idea.

Obi-Wan woke up feeling utterly refreshed. Stars, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good, this _well_ , what possibly could have—

Oh, right. He had—he glanced around the med tent, catching sight of Cody sleeping in a nearby cot. He looked… pale, but otherwise seemed to be peacefully resting. Obi-Wan couldn’t help fretting a bit, even though Quiet had _said_ he was fine, and even though Cody had very obviously consented. He just—didn’t like the idea of losing control over himself like that. And now Cody was out of commission because he hadn’t been able to stop himself.

“Good, you’re awake. The Commander’s still fine.”

Obi-Wan jerked his head over to see Quiet entering the med tent with Wooley in tow. Wooley was looking at him curiously, and wasn’t wearing his armo—Obi-Wan began turning red. “ _Absolutely_ not.”

Quiet rolled his eyes. “Are you still going to be stubborn about this?”

 _“Yes_.”

“It’s okay, General,” Wooley piped up. “We don’t mind.”

“‘ _We_ ’?” Obi-Wan echoed, incredulous. “Quiet, you’re not actually expecting me to…”

“Of course I am, sir. Hematophagy isn’t _that_ strange, and I’m fairly certain that the Commander’s anemia is just a result of you being completely starving. So if you eat regularly, you won’t get that hungry again, and we won’t need to worry about having you _or_ troopers out of commission. Rotating through troopers will also aid in that.”

Obi-Wan glared at him, still red. “I don’t want to bite him. Or any of the other men, for that matter. And I _certainly_ don’t want to do it if there’s a chance I could—” He faltered, gaze flickering over to Cody. If he kept biting people, kept drinking their blood, would it ever stop? Would he only take what he needed, or would he… Not to mention that while he had willing “donors” now, he might not always. What would he do then?

Quiet sighed noisily. “He’s _fine_ , General. Look, let’s just do this once, and see how you both feel, alright? If Wooley gets anemic too, we’ll take our chances with how long you can go without eating. If he doesn’t, though, there is no logical reason whatsoever for you to keep refusing to eat.”

“ _Eating_ doesn’t normally involve biting and drinking the blood of living sentients! I don’t understand how you all are so _calm_ about this.”

“The galaxy is wide and strange, sir. Compared to the weird _osik_ we already put up with, this isn’t that bad at all. Are you going to eat or not?” Wooley was calming rolling up his sleeve as he spoke, and Obi-Wan deflated.

“ _Fine_ , but if I— _accidentally_ —take too much, and you pass out, or feel faint _at all_ , I am _not_ doing this again.” Obi-Wan’s face was still red, remembering how very, very _good_ biting Cody had felt, and how Cody had reacted the same—he cared about all his men, certainly, but he didn’t care about them like _that_. He wasn’t sure if he could look Wooley in the eyes again if he moaned his way through drinking the man’s blood.

He didn’t seem to have a choice, though, and he _was_ getting a bit hungry. It was odd, to feel only a little bit hungry, even before going a week without eating. It’d certainly be nice to not be hungry at all, and if it meant Quiet was going to let him out of the blasted med tent, maybe it was worth some mortification.

Wooley offered him his arm, and as Obi-Wan eyed it trying to guess where he should bite he felt his fangs extend out from wherever they were resting in his mouth. He didn’t remember what he did or how he decided where to bite Cody, so he let instinct guide him and bit down.

Wooley didn’t so much as flinch, and to Obi-Wan’s immense relief it _did_ feel like just a normal meal, if a strange one, no more pleasurable than a nice outing to Dex’s. He relaxed, then, and was further relieved when some instinct signaled to him when he should stop before he started taking too much.

He could stop. He wasn’t some out of control—he could _stop_.

He removed his fangs and felt them retract as he scooted backwards on the cot, still embarrassed enough by the whole situation to want to put some distance between them.

Wooley was examining his arm with fascination. “There’s no bite marks. It didn’t hurt when you bit down, either. How’d you _do_ that?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I have no idea. I wasn’t consciously _doing_ anything, though I’m glad it doesn’t hurt. You feel alright, as well?”

“Yeah, I don’t feel faint at all. I’m good, right, Quiet?”

Quiet had been doing… medic examinations, whatever they were, and nodded. “You’re as fine as I can tell without any real equipment. Obviously you need to come back here _immediately_ if you feel even slightly faint, but otherwise, you’re cleared for duty.”

Obi-Wan perked up slightly. “What about me?”

Quiet crossed his arms. “Depends. Are you still going to be stubborn about this?”

“No, I suppose not.” Obi-Wan sighed, ducking his head. “I’m still… uncomfortable with all this, but my primary fears have been assuaged. I, ah, can at least… eat… in private, though? No need for an audience?”

“Of course. I’ll be managing the rotation to make sure everyone stays healthy. Should I just send whoever’s up for dinner to your tent, then?”

Obi-Wan felt himself blush again, but hopefully Wooley would go around telling everyone how very no fuss it was and he won’t get teased into the next galaxy about regular visitors to his tent at night. “I suppose that’s as good a place as any. Thank you.”

He left the med tent tense, unsure of what the others’ reactions would be. Quiet, Cody, and Wooley had all been calm about it, and presumably anyone on the… rotation would be as well, but that wasn’t necessarily _everyone_.

Of course, he ended up having little to worry about. The rest of the troopers were glad to see he was finally well, and Wooley apparently had been quite clear that he wouldn’t have even noticed being bitten if he hadn’t watched.

He was gratified by the casual trust they were showing him, trust he dearly hoped he would never have to betray.

He _was_ still a little nervous when it was time for his “dinner.” It would apparently take him more than two times for him to get used to the idea of biting and drinking peoples’ blood. Impact, the trooper assigned for dinner, was more curious than anything, at least, rolling up his sleeve and watching with similar fascination to Wooley.

That _also_ made Obi-Wan a bit nervous, being _watched_ , but luckily not enough to mess up whatever he was doing to keep the bites painless. He wished biting into everyone’s forearm didn’t feel so awkward as well, but he didn’t quite know how to raise the issue. He _initially_ had just bit there because that was where Cody’s cut was, but now everyone kept rolling up their sleeves without preamble.

Though, now that he thought of it as Impact was leaving, the best spot he could think of was around the neck and shoulders, and while mechanically it might be less awkward… Yes, he did rather think he’d prefer it if his troopers kept rolling up their sleeves instead of pulling down their collars.

He sat on his tent’s cot, trying to read through various reports on their supply and repair status while his mind drifted. If he had to bite them, he’d rather bite the forearms of his men, yes. But _Cody_ , on the other hand…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello i'm back with a quick update! i have no idea how long chapters are going to be in the future, or how long will be between them, but this seemed like a good place to stop. also, you can find me over at [tumblr](http://afiregender.tumblr.com), where i'll occasionally be posting snippets of the next chapters.


End file.
